


From Water to Wine

by GemNika



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Animal Abuse, CoLu Week 2018, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemNika/pseuds/GemNika
Summary: Years after the first of the Shifter Raids, he finds an animal in need of help. It's a risk even taking it in, but he can't leave it to die. What he finds will change his world forever.CoLu Week 2018, Day 2: Water





	From Water to Wine

 

He kept his head lowered and the collar of his beige coat pulled high to ward off the smog filtering through the city streets on Monday afternoon. With quick, measured steps - fast enough to get where he needed to go, but not so fast as to draw any unwanted attention to himself - Erik trudged down the cracked sidewalk, through a throng of teenagers with drab, unkempt clothes, and didn't look anywhere but at the ground.

The kids hanging around were nothing new, even though Erik thought they should be in school. But public schools were a thing of the past. They were nothing more than memories of a simpler time. A time that no one spoke of in public, for fear of the STF catching wind and having them tried for sedition. Like hell was he going to mention that time in his life, when he'd been only a child who walked two blocks down the road to his school with his best friend since birth. No, he just kept his head down and continued on his way home from work.

It would have stayed that way, if it hadn't been for the sudden breaking of glass just across the street and angry, masculine shouting.

Erik glanced over to see what the commotion was, and that was when he saw it. STF officers in their heavy black militia gear dragged a naked man from an apartment building, and tossed him to the ground, knocking his glasses off in the process. The man tried to scramble away from them, but he didn't get far.

"Please, I'm innocent! Just leave me alone!"

And all it took for Erik's attention to be drawn away from the scene was the pair of furry cat ears poking out of the man's wet auburn hair. That explained it. He didn't need to know who had called in the Shapeshifter Task Force. Just like he didn't need to know where they were taking that man once he was loaded into the nearby grey MRAP vehicle with a grate on the front for crowd control. That man would never be seen again.

"I'm a human, too!" the man bellowed. "I have rights! You can't-" He was cut off as an officer hit him across the face with a baton, sending splashes of red onto the pavement.

If he was a shapeshifter - and that was the only explanation, considering Erik caught just a glimpse of a long, furry tail when he glanced back one last time - then he couldn't be with the general populace. He couldn't be allowed to interact with humans. They couldn't let him procreate and continue the mutation in his genes in future generations.

It was easy to ignore the screams coming from that van while the doors slammed shut. Erik simply continued walking home, just like he did every Monday through Thursday at a quarter to four.

* * *

At seven o'clock on Wednesday morning, Erik left his apartment for work. He adjusted his coat to sit just right on his shoulders, and paused to scan his wrist over the locking mechanism. A small green bar lit up on the his tanned skin. He wasn't worried about someone breaking in. The police had nipped things like theft in the bud nearly ten years prior. But scanning the lock meant that he was going to leave home. And scanning himself in at work would show that he'd taken his normal route, and hadn't dawdled. And if he did make a stop anywhere, like at the grocery store, all he had to do was give proof of his route by allowing them to scan his wrist to verify it, and his reason for the change, should the STF stop him for questioning.

Erik's loafers tapped on the worn royal blue carpet as he walked down the hall toward the stairs. He kept his head down, even in the building. There was nothing interesting to look at anyway. Drab grey doors gave way to sterile white walls in a steady rhythm. He rounded the corner and didn't pause when he neared a thin man wearing only his boxers in the hallway, standing with his back to an open doorway.

"Fucking dumb shit!" the man yelled. "Like fuck am I getting arrested for your ass!"

Erik glanced to the side to watch the man kick something on the floor. It wasn't his business, so he kept walking. He had to get to work, after all. And after work, he needed to stop for some groceries. His day was full, so there was no point in lingering to find out what some other idiot in his building was doing. Once he reached the first floor, Erik pulled up the collar of his coat and prepared himself for the stench that permeated the air outside. He was glad that he only had to walk three blocks to get down into the subway where the air was clear and fresh from the filtration systems.

* * *

On Thursday morning, Erik paused in the hallway to see what the lump on the floor was. It hadn't been moved since the day before, and it didn't smell badly so it couldn't be trash.

He crouched down after making sure no one else was around, and peered at the little ball of something. Its middle raised and lowered slowly, almost labored, and his indigo eyes narrowed when he realized it was covered in pale yellow fur. With a heavy sigh, he pulled out his glasses and put them on, then looked at it again.

A cat.

The man in his boxers the day before had been beating a cat in the hallway. What a fucking monster. He was tempted to touch it, to see if it was even responsive. Based on the hacked up hairball near its head dotted with drying blood, he could only assume that the poor little creature wasn't long for this world.

It was probably a blessing.

Erik stood and shook his head while walking down the hall toward the stairs. He needed to get to work. Some cat that was barely alive wasn't his concern. What  _was_  his concern was getting to work on time. The last thing he needed was to be late. That would upset his boss. And if he could avoid getting on Brain's bad side down at the pharmacy, then he was all for it.

* * *

On Monday afternoon, he saw the cat again. Still lying in the same place it had been since Wednesday. Erik really wanted to continue ignoring it. That was the status quo for him - pretend it's not happening, don't make a fuss. It kept him out of trouble. Then again, it wasn't like he had a whole lot to worry about. He wasn't a shapeshifter. He was a normal human with a normal job and no criminal record. And no reason for anyone to suspect otherwise from him.

Still, he stopped to stare down at the cat. It wasn't conscious. It was still breathing though. How the fuck was this thing still alive?

He frowned and looked around the hall. No one was there. No one could see him. His building was so old that there were no cameras installed in the hallways. He was out of the little conical range of the scanners that were required on every door. He turned slightly to look at the door to that man's apartment.

_Jack L. Tartaros._

That man with his dirty blond hair and gold eyes. He was someone Erik refused to mess with.

Slowly, he bent down and drew the frail little cat into his arms. It didn't make a sound as he tucked it under his coat and walked the rest of the way to his own apartment. Erik scanned his wrist at the door and went inside, locking it behind him. He didn't know the first thing about cats. He actually didn't care for them all that much. He also didn't know a damn thing about helping a hurt animal. But it wasn't like he could just let it die. He could at least  _try_  to save it. So Erik took the cat with him to the bathroom and grabbed a spare towel to make a little bed for it on the couch.

The cat didn't smell, so there was probably no need to bathe it. He just had to make it comfortable. And then try to get some water in its system. Maybe the thing was dehydrated. Considering it had been lying in the hall for more than half a week, he figured that had to be the case. He left the cat on its little bed on the couch, and went to his kitchen for a glass of water and the first aid kit that had a nasal aspirator in it.

* * *

At two o'clock in the morning on Tuesday, the cat woke up. And in turn, it woke Erik as well. He'd been asleep, dead asleep and thankful for the rest, when a small, almost questioning  _meow_  from the foot of his bed pulled him back to reality. He always slept in total silence. He hated white noise in the background, since it kept him awake.

Erik rubbed his eyes and peered off the edge of the bed. Through the darkness, he could barely make out the wide, almost glowing honey eyes of the cat. And there it sat on the floor, staring back at him, almost through him. It didn't make another sound after that first meow to wake him up.

"Fuck off," he said. "I've got work in the morning." He didn't wait for a response - honestly, what kind of response could the cat give him in the first place? - and flopped back onto his pillow and closed his eyes.

There was no noise from the cat for the rest of the night.

* * *

Every night at two in the morning, the cat returned. It meowed only once, just a small, crackling sort of sound that wanted to be normal, but wasn't. Maybe it had sustained some damage to its voice box, or maybe that was how it had always sounded, Erik wasn't sure. What he did know was that it wasn't coming to beg for water - he made sure there was a bowl full of it close to the couch for the cat - and it didn't want any food - he'd been feeding it scraps of food from his own meals, and it scarfed everything down without hesitation. It was a pretty fucking clean cat too, since he'd laid down a newspaper in the corner beneath his living room window, and the cat never once used it to piss on. He wasn't really sure where the thing was using the bathroom in his apartment, but he'd smelled every inch of the place, and there was no ammonia-stench anywhere.

But the point was, there was no reason for the thing to bother him at two in the morning every single night with just one meow. And every time he woke up, it would just sit there at the foot of his bed and stare at him. This was part of why he hated cats. They just stared when it suited them.

Every time he found the cat there, he said the same thing. "Fuck off. I've got work in the morning."

As Friday rolled around, and since it was his day off, he decided to humor the thing. He went to bed just like normal, and woke up when it meowed at him. Except this time, it meowed a second time before he could even open his eyes.

With a sleepy frown, Erik peered over the edge to find the cat not in its usual spot on the floor at the foot of the bed, but much closer. Up on its hind legs and stretching its clawless paws onto the top of his comforter by his shoulder. That explained why it never clawed the furniture. The cat meowed a third time while sitting back down on the floor, still staring up at him, still waiting for… something. He wasn't sure what, though.

But he was curious. What did this cat do while he wasn't around?

"Go away," Erik said softly. He kept watching though. He watched it blink up at him, and he watched as it finally stood and turned to leave his bedroom. That was when he noticed something though. The cat was limping. There was some sort of weakness in its left hind leg. "Stop."

The cat stopped and looked back at him.

Odd. It was almost like the thing actually understood what he was saying. Had someone trained this cat and gotten rid of it? Did that man who'd been beating it train the cat?

"Come here," Erik said softly. He memorized the cat's careful gait in surprise when it started limping toward him again. Once it was close enough, he reached down and scooped the cat up, then settled it on the bed. And in an instant, the cat began purring and rubbing its face along his fingers. "I should be sleeping right now," he sighed.

The cat stopped and looked into his eyes again, then meowed quietly and moved to the foot of his bed, out of the way.

His head tilted with curiosity when it curled up with no further prompting. "Did you just want some company?" he asked.

The cat didn't answer - although, he didn't really expect it to answer in the first place. It just blinked at him and closed its bright honey eyes. That had to be it though. So, Erik did the only thing he could think of right then. He laid down and went back to sleep with this strange cat curled about his feet.

* * *

Erik had never really been a cat person. He preferred snakes and reptiles. It was common for people to have pets - only animals that had been tested to verify they were  _only_ animals, and not shapeshifters in disguise, then approved by an STF committee were allowed - but Erik hadn't ever wanted a pet before.

He didn't see the cat as much of a pet though. It was almost like a roommate, as the next month went by. Every day before work, he sat and ate his breakfast with the cat. They ate dinner together every night. On his days off, they lounged on the couch and watched television. The cat didn't have a name. He didn't believe in naming animals. He didn't even know if it was male or female, and he wasn't going to take it to a doctor to find out. That was money he couldn't afford to spend.

The strange thing about this cat, though, was that it disappeared when he brought the occasional woman home with him. It stayed out of sight, and didn't come into his bedroom until the woman was gone - whether it was that same night or in the morning. It didn't seem to hold a grudge against him for having women over. It was almost as though the cat was giving him some privacy.

The cat still limped, which meant that Erik tended to carry it around the apartment so it didn't have to struggle. From the way it purred in his arms, he assumed it appreciated the gesture.

He wasn't really fond of cats, but this one didn't feel like a normal cat to him. But Erik refused to consider the possibility that this was a shapeshifter. Because shapeshifters were almost always in human form. They preferred keeping their disguises up by pretending to be humans. Those days, shapeshifters were more stealthy and guarded. They didn't let anyone touch them, from the reports on the news, while they were in their animal form. Apparently, they couldn't stay as an animal indefinitely either, so there was no way this cat could be one of them.

It was just a cat.

* * *

" _Joan, we've received reports from the STF that Shifters have been found hiding in rural areas. They're trying to create settlements for themselves that aren't sanctioned by the government."_

" _That's right, Tomas. You know, we see so many stories about them being rounded up. Protests have died down. They know it's for the best, and these little groups are trying to take that for granted."_

"What a bunch of bullshit," Erik muttered, turning away from the television. He didn't want to hear more of the same nonsense about shapeshifters. He was just so tired of it.

" _We've just received an updated report from the STF. The most recent encampment of these things had 30 men and women, and 10 children. They're procreating. They're trying to build an army."_

"They're trying to fucking exist," Erik sighed. Why couldn't people see that? With a roll of his eyes, he bent down to pick up the cat from its favorite spot on the couch. He ignored the Saturday morning news while carrying it to the kitchen, then set it on the counter. Since he'd already downed his first cup of coffee for the day, it was time for breakfast. "What should we have today?" he asked the cat. It blinked up at him from its spot on the counter. He turned to the fridge and peered inside. "Bacon and eggs?"

The cat's response was another blink when he looked at it.

"And pancakes?" he drawled with a smirk. The cat's tail flicked from the left side of its body to the right, and then it meowed. It really seemed to enjoy eating little nibbles of pancakes without syrup.

Erik pulled out four slices of bacon and three eggs, then the milk and pancake mix. The cat probably wouldn't eat any of the bacon, and it steered clear of eggs most times too. But he could give it a little bowl of milk to help wash down the pancakes once they were cooked.

He began measuring out pancake mix. He chuckled when the cat stuck its face into the bowl and tried to eat it before he'd even added the milk.

"None of that, now," he said. The cat was adamant though. He tried to push it away, but between one breath and the next, the bowl toppled to the floor and landed on top of the cat, spilling the mix all over the tile. While he wasn't too happy about the mess, Erik was more concerned with the cat's well-being. It still limped, and he was sure the last thing that it needed was a fall from the counter.

Erik removed the bowl from over the cat and found its golden fur coated with a heavy dusting of pancake mix. It didn't make a sound as he picked it up, but he could have sworn the look in its large honey eyes was one of sadness. Regret, even. If eyes could be apologetic, that's what this look was. But that was just silly.

"You're not in trouble," he chuckled, rubbing a bit of powder off the top of its head. He made his way to the bathroom, then turned on the faucet to get a bit of water into the tub and set the plug. "We just need to get you a little bath, and-"

The cat howled and tried to scramble from his grasp. He was never more thankful than in that moment that it didn't have claws. His bare arms - usually covered by long sleeves to cover his tattoos - would have been torn to shreds from how violently the cat began protesting being cleaned. But Erik was larger, and he was stronger. And the poor little cat who was just absolutely terrified of the inch or so of water in the bottom of the bathtub, didn't stand a chance against him.

"If you wanna be like this, then fine!" he finally yelled. He promptly dunked the cat in the water, thoroughly soaking its stomach and hind legs while keeping its face above the surface. Before he could cup his hand and gather some water to pour between its shoulders, a puff of bright pink smoke filled the tub. It wasn't a thick sort of smoke. Almost like steam, if he was being completely honest with himself. It was just thin enough for him to see through it.

It happened when he blinked. One moment, the cat was there in the tub, howling and flailing every which way, and the next it was gone. Well, there was still something in the tub, it just wasn't a fucking cat. It wasn't even a fucking animal. It was a naked woman, soaking wet, gasping for air as she crawled to the far end of the bath. His jaw dropped, and he was struck into silence as his gaze traveled over the delicate upturn of her nose and the fullness of her breasts. The swell of her hips and the graceful arch of her hunched shoulders. Erik wasn't sure how he managed to turn off the running water.

Shocked didn't even begin to describe his fucking feelings. Horrified was definitely one of them. Because the only way for that cat to suddenly be a voluptuous… scrumptious… naked… crying, begging woman was for her to be a shapeshifter. And she just couldn't be a shapeshifter. Because he'd been harboring her, caring for her. But now she was crying in his bathtub.

Wait, she was crying?

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… to…" Her voice was ragged, maybe from a lack of use, and so soft as she curled up to cover her body from his view. "I'm sorry. I'll change back. I'm sorry."

Erik found himself reaching for her, and she flinched just before his fingers could brush against her skin. Not fur, but real skin. He'd really hoped with everything he had that this was a hallucination or something. Anything but her being a shapeshifter.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, pulling his hand back as she curled in on herself even more. He listened to her cry, how she begged so quietly for mercy.

"Please." She sniffed and lifted her head just enough to look into his eyes. It was those same honey-colored eyes that the cat had. "Please don't hurt me."

"Hey, now," he said gently. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." It took her several minutes to calm down enough to speak to him clearly. And in that time, Erik simply knelt on the floor and got a washcloth ready for her to clean the leftover pancake mix off of herself. She made no move to do it though. Not even when her tears dried and she was wracked with only the occasional trembling sniffle.

"Y-You really won't… hurt me?"

"I really won't hurt you." He let out a quiet sigh and dipped the washcloth into the shallow water. "Can you tell me what you are?" He knew the truth, but she'd been a cat for an entire month without shifting once. Well, that he'd seen. Had she waited to see what his schedule was, and then shifted into a human while he wasn't around? Had she maybe waited for him to go to sleep or to leave for work in the morning, and then turned into a human and walked around his home when he couldn't catch her in the act?

She drew back slightly when he tried to hand her the washcloth, and that was when he noticed the nearly glowing golden shade of her hair, and just how long it was. It hung well past her hips, with several inches drifting lazily in the water around her. And there at the top of her head sat a pair of little cat ears. They were small enough to be hidden by her hair, if she really tried. All she would need to do was pull her hair up into one of those beautifully mussed buns that women always put their hair in while they were in a rush.

"I'm a…" She hesitated then, and he completely understood why she was scared to admit it out loud. "A shapeshifter. I'm the same as the others, but… a little different, I guess."

"How did you stay a cat for so long?" he asked. "How did I not see you shift?"

There was just the smallest, inhuman lift to the corners her lips. He couldn't help but look at them more closely. Her upper lip was just a little fuller than most people's, a little more feline. It wasn't by much, and he probably wouldn't have noticed it at all if he wasn't sitting right next to her, scrutinizing every detail. Searching for something that set her apart from a normal human.

"I can be a cat for as long as I want," she said. "I prefer being an animal, actually."

"Wh-What… I mean, how…" He vaguely gestured to her body, never looking away from her face.

"The water," she said. He watched in his peripherals as she reached forward and splashed her shaking fingers over the surface. "If you put enough on one of us, we'll change right there."

Erik shook his head and dipped the washcloth in the water again. He tried handing it to her after wringing out the excess, but she just stared at him. She didn't try to take it, but at least she didn't flinch when his hand came closer to her. She needed to get herself cleaned up, that was for sure, but if she wasn't going to do it herself, then he'd just have to do it for her.

Well, assuming she actually let him do it.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked. "I was just scared of shifting…"

"You didn't hurt me." He dipped the washcloth in the water again and slowly lifted it until it hovered over her arm. "Is it okay if I clean you up?" She nodded. They were silent for a moment, both watching his hand as he brought the cloth to her arm. Erik made sure he was gentle as he wiped from her shoulder to her elbow. She was really a shifter. Fuck, this wasn't good. If anyone found out that he had a shifter in his home, he'd be arrested. And she would be taken by the STF. It instantly reminded him of how he'd even found her in the first place. That skinny man in his boxers who lived in this building. He'd been kicking her in the hallway.

" _Like fuck am I getting arrested for your ass!"_

He'd found out her secret, and he'd tried to kill her over it.

"That was why that guy hurt you," he finally said while wringing the cloth out over her hair. He was mesmerized by the way her little cat ears twitched when the water touched them.

"He was my roommate." She propped her chin on her knees and stared down at the water. "He thought I was just a recluse with a certified pet cat."

"How did he find out?" Erik leaned forward and tenderly scrubbed her shoulders, then her back.

"I was about to cook some noodles," she said. "I always cooked and then ate in my room, so I could be comfortable."

"You mean, as a cat," he said. He'd always thought shapeshifters preferred being human. But she'd said that she preferred being an animal. Was that what made her different from others like her?

She nodded again, then stretched her legs out at his gentle insistence. While he started cleaning her feet, she said, "When I was putting the pot on the stove to boil the water, it hit the counter and spilled all over me. He was getting a sandwich at the time, so he saw me get wet… And…"

"And you shifted right in front of him."

"Yeah." He could feel her eyes on him when he hesitated before carefully washing away the powder from her collarbones, then down to her breasts and stomach. For someone who was such a lean cat, she sure had some curves on her as a human. Her stomach was taut and firm, and her legs were thin, toned. The dip of her waist threw him for a loop though, because it made her large breasts and hips seem more pronounced. Erik couldn't stop himself from picturing what it would be like to have his face buried between her breasts. And then he shut that train of thought right down. He didn't need to ogle her. Nothing would come of it anyway. Humans and shifters couldn't be together. It wasn't allowed. It was actually fucking illegal. Besides, even if she was allowing him to clean her, that didn't mean he had permission to stare at her body and imagine any number of lewd things he could do with her.

"Will you make me leave?" she asked. He set the washcloth to the side, his brow furrowing when she grabbed one of his hands with both of hers. He looked down at her hands. They were so much smaller than his. This woman was so delicate. So fragile. His eyes narrowed in confusion when he saw that the tips of her fingers. She didn't have fingernails. Where those should have been was just clear, pale skin that matched the rest of her. She drew back her hands when he didn't say anything, self-consciously tucking them against her stomach. "One time, I had a master who declawed me. Turns out, they don't grow back when I'm like this."

"There's no room for another person here," he said. "It's a one bedroom."

He wasn't going to let the dejected look in her eyes affect him while she stared down at his bared forearms. But then she perked up. She smiled just a little bit and her eyes brightened. "I can be your cat," she said. "I won't get in your way, and I don't eat much. I can even use the toilet while I'm a cat, so you don't have to worry about a litter box smelling up the place."

That explained how she'd been relieving herself without the paper he'd put on the floor for her.

"And I'm quiet," she continued. "I don't shed, and I can't claw up the furniture, and-"

He pressed his fingers to her lips to silence her. Those things were all well and good, but there was another problem. A few of them, actually. The most obvious of those problems didn't need to be said. They both knew he couldn't keep her around, because she was a shapeshifter. Instead, he said, "I don't like cats."

Her shoulders slumped. "But I like it here," she whispered. "You're nice to me."

He wasn't going to admit that he liked having her there when she was a cat. She was really good company. Erik looked away and pulled the plug to drain the bath.

"You don't… please… Can't I stay?" she begged. "I can try to be another animal instead. Whatever you want me to be."

They both knew it didn't work that way. Each shapeshifter had an affinity. One animal they were most comfortable shifting into. Sure, she could probably turn herself into a dog or a snake or even a pig, but she wouldn't be able to hold the form for more than an hour before shifting back to a human. And apparently, this woman could be a cat indefinitely. Why would she be willing to put herself through that hassle, just so she could stay?

"Why are you so desperate to stay with me?" he asked. "You could be living your own life." Why would she want to be  _his_  cat when she could pass for a human pretty well and move out to the country where people weren't as judgmental over how  _human_  someone was?

She sighed and didn't answer him. When he thought about it, she didn't need to answer. He already knew. Any shifter who was found out was either killed by some so-called  _do-gooder_  - like she'd almost been - or picked up by the STF and shipped off to what the government claimed was a quarantined continent. Everyone knew the truth though. Shapeshifters were either experimented on, or executed. It was all just one big fairy tale that the news stations told to the general populace. But people like him, the ones who had been alive when the Shifter Raids started… they remembered.

He remembered.

Erik remembered them broadcasting the executions on the nightly news. He remembered people in his town being taken from their homes, tied to the bumpers of huge STF vans, then dragged down the street until they left bloody streaks on the pavement.

She sniffled and wrung out her hair, then crawled out of the tub. He stood and took a step back to give her a little space, his head tilting curiously when she tried to stand up. Except she stumbled into the wall instead. Erik tried to help her, but she just shrugged him off. "It's okay," she said. "I'll leave. I'm sorry for bothering you. But…"

Her eyes were so kind when she looked up at him again. Her smile was so tender, so grateful. Her ears twitched on top of her head.

"Thanks for taking care of me," she whispered.

Erik was silent as she struggled just to limp out of the bathroom. He opened the nearby cabinet and grabbed a towel, then followed her out to the living room. She could barely walk as it was. Even as a cat, she had a hard time walking. She nearly fell again by the coffee table that he always had to shoo her off of - and then promptly gave up when he realized she wasn't going to stop lying on it - and he finally couldn't take it anymore. Erik pulled her to a stop with the towel wrapped around her shoulders. "Just stop for a minute," he said. She didn't pull away from him. Slowly, after making sure she could stay standing on her own, he circled around her so he could look into her eyes. His hand lifted of its own accord and his thumb brushed over her thin, quivering lower lip. "You can barely get out of my apartment. How are you gonna get anywhere else?"

"My knee just hurts a bit," she whimpered. "I'll m-manage."

Erik shook his head at her. If he was found harboring a shifter, he'd be arrested. Maybe even executed. They both knew that his hands were tied in this. She couldn't stay with him. She had to go. Except, all he kept seeing when he looked down at her right then were scared jade eyes instead of brown, with reptilian pupils instead of the slightly slitted feline ones he'd yet to notice.

"No eating off my plate," he finally said. "But I'll let you sleep in my bed. And if you like being pet, then I guess I can do that, too. But don't be obnoxious about it."

He saw her bright honey eyes as they widened and filled with tears. "You mean…"

Finally, Erik smirked. "Maybe I could get you one of those magnetic collars, so you don't choke to death if you shift on accident. And you can take it off yourself before you shift."

Her lips lifted in an even wider smile than before. Neither of them noticed that the towel around her shoulders slipped to the floor. "You'd… get me a collar?" she asked. He could hear the excitement in her voice. He could feel it charging in the air around them. "I'd be yours?"

"I guess you would be," he said with a shrug. "But maybe we should get you some clothes, too. Just in case."

She shook her head and crinkled her nose, and he was sure - had she been a cat right then - that her hackles would have raised up with distaste. "I hate clothes," she hissed. "They're too tight."

"Well, you can't be naked all the time when you're like this."

"I could wear your clothes!" She looked so happy, Erik couldn't tell her no. It would save money if he didn't have to buy women's clothing, and she was much shorter than him. Her frame was smaller. She could wear his clothing with no issues.

"Fine," he chuckled. "When you're like this, you can wear my clothes."

She laughed and shot forward to hug him with her arms around his shoulders. It was then that he realized her towel was missing. Erik pulled back quickly and picked up the towel. He wrapped it around her again, still smiling when she bounced with excitement. "Let's get you dried off, okay?"

She nodded and stood completely still while he dried her off instead of trying to do it herself. "Why are you doing this for me?" she asked.

He was silent for a moment while he knelt by her feet. His hands paused in drying her leg, and his gaze lowered to the floor. "Before the government started collecting your kind," he said softly, "When I was a kid, I had a friend named Kinana. She was taken from my house by the STF in the first of the Raids."

"She was like me?"

He nodded. "Her affinity was a snake. I was only seven at the time, and I tried to convince them that she was just my pet."

They'd heard their parents talking about the news just that morning, and Kinana - whose parents were both human - had been taken to Erik's house to hide. He'd put her in a terrarium that was set up as though she was any other pet snake.

"The STF came into my house, and they took her. They didn't believe me, said someone had tipped them off…"

He didn't find out until years later that it had been his own parents who'd called to say they had a shifter hiding in their house. They'd told him that they wanted to protect him from getting mixed up with  _their kind_. The day he'd found out, nearly a decade later, Erik had left home and never looked back. Like hell was he going to stay with people like that, who'd had his best friend ripped from his grasp and carted off like some kind of savage beast.

"They had this… taser," he said. Finally he looked up into her saddened eyes. "They shot Kinana with it, and she shifted right then and there."

He still remembered so clearly how the terrarium had shattered. How she'd bled from little scrapes here and there while she convulsed on the floor. He'd gathered her in his arms, uncaring of her nudity, and tried to shield her body from the men who rushed his bedroom. One man wrapped an arm around his throat while another grabbed Kinana by the hair and pulled her away from him. He still remembered how she'd reached for him, how he tried to reach for her, while she was dragged out of his bedroom. He remembered the way he'd cried in his parents' arms when she was gone, not knowing that they were the ones who'd betrayed him.

"They took her after that, and I never saw her again." He stood and wrapped the towel around her hair to finish drying it. "I guess… maybe I want to protect someone the way I couldn't protect her…"

"Really?"

He shrugged then. "I dunno. It sounds stupid if I say it out loud." He jolted when her arms wrapped around him again and her nose gently nudged his jaw.

"Can I have a tag, too?" she asked. "Just like a real cat?"

Slowly, he smiled and hugged her back. He ignored her nakedness, and the flush on his cheeks. "Well, what should it say? In case you haven't noticed, I never gave you a name."

She rubbed her face along his flushed cheek, and he found himself chuckling when she licked him. It was strange. Her tongue didn't feel like sandpaper like this. "My name is Lucy… Master," she whispered.

Before he could say anything about how she didn't need to call him Master, she disappeared in another puff of pink smoke. One moment, he was hugging her, and the next, the little blonde cat was sitting on the floor in front of him. Staring up at him with her soulful brown eyes.

Erik smiled, truly smiled, while he picked Lucy up. He carried her back to the kitchen and held her in one arm while cleaning up the counter. He set her down and went about cleaning the mess that had been made from her intense desire to eat pancake mix. "Let's try breakfast again." He chuckled when she meowed at him.

" _This just in, there has been an attack on the main STF compound in the capital. Sources say that a group of renegade Shifters have broken in and begun killing STF agents. They are armed with explosives and rifles. One source says they're also shifting to increase the kill count. The death toll is currently at 45. All surrounding streets have been barricaded."_

Erik frowned and picked Lucy up again, then took her to the living room where the television was still playing the news. He sat down with her on his lap, and absently pet her while they both watched aerial footage of an enormous grey building with smoke billowing from several windows.

He looked down when he felt her tongue scratching over his forearm, and the tattoo he'd gotten in secret when he was sixteen of a pinup woman with a serpent head. His own silent, hidden support of shifter equality. He'd known a few other people to have gotten something similar over the years - an eagle with human legs, a kitten's face on a baby's body, even just a human dressed up as an animal - but it always stayed hidden. Just in case the STF had reason to believe they were sympathizers. Just having this tattoo could get him locked in prison.

"Lucy," Erik said softly, "If shifters were allowed to live with us freely, would you still want to be a pet?"

She turned to look at him, meowed, then rolled onto her back in his lap, offering him her stomach for a good scratching. He scratched under her chin and she meowed again. And when he felt her purring, Erik knew what she was trying to tell him.

"I'll get your collar on my way home from work tomorrow," he said while rubbing his hand over the fur on her belly. If the day ever came where shifters could live free from persecution, he'd let her go. If that was what she wanted, he'd let her go. But for the time being, he swore to himself to keep her safe.

_**.The End.** _


End file.
